


A Funny thing Happened on the Way Back to Midgard

by Aegistic



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:34:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aegistic/pseuds/Aegistic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things go from bad to worse when Captain America gets teleported to another world and the only one who can save him is his old foe, Loki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where are we?

There was something about Loki that felt familiar to Steve. Cold and all encompassing, soothing, like being asleep in the ice. Steve leaned in, his thumb brushing the cheek of the unconscious god lying in his lap. A week ago he hadn’t ever thought to be here, in Hel of all places, with Loki. But then again, that week hadn’t started out normally either.

 

One Week Earlier: 

“Hawkeye, I need your eyes up on that building. Enchantress can’t have gotten far, but I don’t want us to lose sight of her.” Steve barked into his communications device. Hawkeye nodded and pulled out an arrow and fired it off, riding up the cable that fell out of the fletching. He was gone with a ‘vwip’ leaving only Steve and Natasha on the ground level. Ironman was scanning from even higher up and Thor had not returned from Asgard in the months following the battle of New York.

There was a glimpse of blonde and green on a nearby street corner and three voices shouted all at once “CAP! LOOK OUT!” Then there was nothing but a flash of neon green and a super intense heat that had threatened to bake Steve alive. He hit the ground with a roll and a cough. Steve slowly uncurled himself from the protective underside of his shield and peered around him. The ground was cold, near freezing, and a thick blanket of purple haze four feet deep covered it. Steve stood up and cleared his lungs of the purple fog and took in the scenery, or rather lack thereof. There were a few giant gnarled trees that were completely dead, and some massive twisting spire that seemed to rise far into the sky off to his right, but how far away, Steve wasn't certain. A chill ran through him, but there was a distinct lack of wind. 

“Hello? Hello can anyone hear me? Where am I?” Steve called out into the mists. His only reply was a slow groan of pain from in front of him. Steve adjusted his shield and headed towards the noise, his boots colliding with something soft and clearly not happy about being walked into. It groaned and slowly rose to its feet. 

“Where on -?” The figure said. It stumbled forward then turned around and faced Steve.

“Coulson?”

“Captain?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Earth?”

“Not likely. I thought you were dead.”

“I am dead. Stabbed clean through the heart.” Coulson unbuttoned his shirt to prove it. There was a giant gash through his chest, crusted over with blood and torn skin.

“Then where are we?” Steve asked as he glanced around. His eyes landed back on Agent Coulson and he prodded the agent in the shoulder, probably harder than he needed to. 

“Huh.”

“What?” Coulson asked, a mix of indignation and oh-my-God-Cap-just-touched-me.

“You’re not a ghost. You’re a solid body…at least, you are right now.”

“Am I….decomposing at all?” Coulson asked hesitantly.

Steve gave the agent a once over and shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing rotten here.”

“How long have I been…dead?”

“Several months. Is this the first you’ve been…aware of…this?” Steve gestured at Coulson.

“I didn’t, I, I think you did something when you came here because I remember nothing but being asleep until I heard your voice.”

“Curious.” Steve mumbled. “Well, let’s walk a ways, see if we can’t get out of this mist.”

“How did you get here?” Coulson asked. “Clearly you’re not dead.”

“Enchantress.” Steve said and began to walk through the mist. “We were fighting her and there was this flash and now I am here. But I’m glad to see you. We’ve missed you terribly.”

Coulson blushed and mentally berated himself for doing so. Now was not the time for being a fanboy, now was the time for being an agent. He followed Steve’s lead. The surrounding area was eerily quiet and still. The mist only moved as they walked through it, then it stilled in their wake. Phil trotted a bit to catch up to Steve.

“So, Enchantress. What’s her M.O.?”

“She’s an Asgardian. Uses magic like Loki does.” Steve grunted as he tripped over a root that was hidden by the fog. They pushed forward in amiable silence after that, heading towards the giant twisted spire that loomed far off in the distance. Coulson ran through a dozen possible scenarios in his head, each one less likely to be plausible than the last. He was about to voice these ideas to Steve when the Captain put out a hand to stop him and drag him down into the mists.

“Ahead, there’s something moving, something big.” Steve cautioned. Phil nodded and peeked out above the fog to catch a glimpse of what Steve had seen. There was a gleaming city very nearby made of gold and jewels and in front of it a giant hound with piercing red eyes. Now that Phil was paying attention to his surroundings he realized that they could feel the vibrations of the hound’s snarls in the earth they were standing on. 

“Where does a dog get to be that size?” Phil whispered, still in awe that he could feel the earth rumble.

“Not on Earth…” Steve mumbled back. They crawled on their bellies a bit closer to the hound and peeked out of the fog again. They could see it much clearer and suddenly all the reading up on Norse mythology that Phil had done after the arrival of Thor caught up to him.

“Cap, I know where we are. I know-“ The exuberant revelation was cut short by a blood curdling howl let out by the hound and the sudden dissipation of the fog around them. “It can wait.”

The giant dog turned his attentions to the pair of them, a snarling fierce mess of drool, bugged out eyes, and very big teeth. Steve prepped his shield, holding it to be thrown and for them to make an escape into the gates of the city that the dog was guarding. The dog saw the motion and dropped into a crouch, coiled and ready to disembowel the trespassers in the world of the dead. The purple mist swarmed back over the three and dissipated, leaving a ghastly yet strangely lovely woman in their wake.

The woman calmed the dog, stroking its nose and speaking in a very old and very broken voice she talked him into calmness. 

She turned on the two men and spoke in a language that neither of them knew.

“What were you saying about knowing where we are?” Cap whispered to Coulson through gritted teeth.

“Niflheim. The Land of the Dead.” Coulson choked. “And that’s Hel. The goddess who watches over it.”


	2. Niflheim is Lovely this Time of Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glance around Niflheim and Hel's mansion answer very few questions for our intrepid heroes, and Steve sets himself up for a whole mess of feels.

Hel was rather lovely, if you were looking at the right side of her face. Phil caught himself staring more often than he should have and decided to watch his feet falling in front of him as they were led through the shining golden city to a crystal palace that sat tangled in the roots of an enormous unseen tree. The breath from the giant hound, Garmr, warmed the air around them and the smell of stale blood and generic dog breath hovered over them in a cloud. Steve gagged a bit as the dog began panting, making the smell worse. Hel glanced at him and he regained his composure quickly.

“You are not dead,” she finally said. “Why are you here?”

“I was sent here by another Asgardian, an enemy of mine,” Steve replied. He adjusted the weight of his shield on his back and popped his neck. “How is it you can speak English?”

“All Speak.”

“Well, not all people speak English,” Phil cut in.

“No, the All Speak enables me to communicate with you,” Hel corrected. Her face was half black and rotted; it was very unsettling to the two gentlemen.

“Where are we?” Steve asked, even though Phil had already told him.

“You are in my home,” Hel replied with no elaboration on the statement what so ever.

Steve asked her again several more times as they walked through the city of the dead, each time her answer was the same monotonous reply of “my home”. He finally gave up after Phil gave him a look and exasperated sigh. They were led into the crystal mansion and Garmr was left to guard the home and Steve and Phil both looked relieved that the blood stained dog was not to follow them any further. The interior of the mansion was elaborately carved; everything looked to be one massive piece of purple hued stone. The couches and tables and chairs all were singular pieces carved from the same stone and rooted to the spot. The couches were draped heavily with furs and cushions for comfort; the table was laden with golden platters and bowls filled with fruits and bread and an entire wheel of cheese. There was a gold pitcher filled with a drink of some sort and goblets that appeared to be so delicate that even Phil worried that he would crush one if he held it wrong.

Hel sat herself on a lounging couch close to the fire and turned to face the two men. “What are your names?”

“Steven Rogers.” Cap spit out automatically.

“Philip J. Coulson, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.” Phil replied calmly.

“You are dead, Philip J. Coulson, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., but you, Steven Rogers, you are not dead.”

“I believe we covered that on the walk up.” Steve snorted.

“You need to leave.”

“What, now? How?” Steve looked as flabbergasted as he felt.

“You must go home on your own. I am not strong enough to send you back to your world,” Hel replied calmly in her droning, emotionless voice.

“What about me?” Phil asked. He wanted to return to Earth, to New York and home and everything he knew and loved and was familiar. He didn’t want to be forced back into a sleep state like he had been in for the past several months.

“You are free to move about the city of the dead as you see fit,” Hel replied, her eyes not leaving Captain America.

“But…But I want to go home too.” Phil would tell anyone who asked that he didn’t whine that sentence, but the look that Steve shot him and the expression on the Super Soldier’s face told another story. “I mean, I’d like to return to New York as well.”

“Impossible.” Hel stated.

“Why?” Both men asked.

“You have been dead for too long. Your physical body would be months decomposing. You would just die again, your body crumbling around you as you tried desperately to be normal.”

Phil winced at the description. Perhaps staying here wasn’t so bad an option. Steve permitted himself to sit. His body was unusually sore and he needed a minute to process the information that he was in the land of the dead.

 

Last Month:

“Don’t let him see the newspaper.” The voice was Tony Stark’s voice; it had hissed an order to another Avenger while Steve was walking into the kitchen to join them for breakfast. Super hearing had its perks.

“Don’t let me see what?” Steve asked Tony and Clint who were fighting over the newspaper and making far too much racket in the morning for two grown men.

“He has a right to know, genius.” Clint barked at Tony and wrestled the paper away from the billionaire. “Page 3. I’m so sorry, Steve.” Clint handed the crumpled periodical over to the Captain and quietly backed away while Tony glared daggers at the back of the archer’s head.

Steve quirked an eyebrow at the two and opened up the newspaper to page 3. There was an article about oil drilling and a snippet about a tiger that was going to be relocated from a zoo in New York to the wilds of Siberia and then Steve saw the name. Peggy Carter, founding member of S.H.I.E.L.D. had passed away due to complications of old age. Steve read and re-read the short article that described Peggy’s life and accomplishments and then quietly folded the paper and set it on the island in the kitchen.

“Steve?” Tony ventured.

“I-I need a minute.”

“Sure buddy.” Clint replied.

Steve scooted his stool out from the island and went over to the enormous bay windows that looked out over the city of Manhattan. He leaned a forearm against the glass and a huge heaving sob escaped him, shaking his shoulders. His friends and team mates looked on helplessly as their leader silently shook with each sob. He slowly sank to his knees and let his forehead rest against the cold glass as his body trembled with smaller, heart-wrenching cries.

Tony picked up the forgotten newspaper and skimmed the article. “They’re holding a memorial in London this weekend. Do you want me to fly you out so you can say goodbye?”

Steve stayed silently where he was, the only indication that Tony got from him was a tiny little nod of the head.

 

Present:

“If I want to visit someone while I’m here, is that possible?” Steve asked Hel, coming out of his memories and back to the situation at hand.

“Are they dead?” Hel snarked.

“Yes.” Steve whispered.

“I cannot stop you if you chose to venture into the city of the dead on your own. Be back here by the time the light fades and you will be safe,” Hel shrugged her slight shoulders and turned her attentions to the far wall, ignoring Phil’s presence.

“Do you want some company, Cap?” Phil asked softly, eager to figure out more about where they were.

“Sorry Phil, this is something I need to do for myself. You understand, right?”

“Oh, Sure,” Phil smiled. “I had half a mind to hunt down my Dad, but I figure if I’m stuck here I’ve got time. Do what you need.”

Steve nodded and left the crystal mansion, heading out into the bare glimmering streets. He had no idea where to start, what the system was down here, and he set about knocking on doors and looking for leads as far as Hel’s organization system of the dead was concerned.

“So…This is Niflheim.” Phil stated casually, trying to start a conversation he could get some answers out of.

“Yes.” Hel replied, dragging her eyes away from the bare wall and focusing them on Phil.

“How do…how does it work? Like how are things decided here?”

“Those who died a peaceful death wind up in my halls. Disease, old age, injuries not sustained from battle….” Hel’s voice droned and petered off.

“But, I was stabbed through the heart in the middle of a confrontation, how does that land me here?” Phil’s voice contained just a tint of anger.

“Then I would assume you did not die a warrior’s death,” Hel shrugged.

“That’s a lousy answer.”

“I do not understand.”

“I was stabbed in the back by Loki, he’s an Asgardian.”

Hel’s face fell into a scowl. “I know well who Loki is, mortal. Perhaps you’re here because of him. He always had a way of messing everything up.” There was venom in her voice that Phil didn’t think she was capable of.

“She’d be English and very pretty, a recent addition to the city.” Steve tried to explain Peggy to a young man who had bumped into him. The dead man just shook his head and moved on in his day of being dead.

The dead of Niflheim were an odd mix. Some were more corporeal than others, they actually had a life here it seemed. They’d greet each other and laugh and didn’t seem to mind death or the glimmering city. Others, like the young man, were only half present in their death. They slipped along like Steve’s true definition of a ghost, not really taking notice of what was going on around them unless they needed to interact with it. Steve shrugged off the encounter and made his way further down the street to a gaggle of elderly ladies who were rather lively for being dead.

“Excuse me ladies,” Steve said, smothering on the Captain America charm. “I’m looking for someone, a friend. She’d be a recent soul, English, very lovely. Her name was Peggy, have you met anyone like that?”

The largest and oldest looking of the women glanced Steve over and mumbled something to the others who cackled. “You look for your sweet love? I know her. She mopes.” Her accent was thick and Steve couldn’t recognize its origins.

“Could you take me to her?” Steve asked, full of hope.

“Ja, I could.” The woman adjusted her wraps and apron and grabbed Steve very firmly about the bicep and dragged him down the street and through several narrow alleys. “She in there.”

Steve looked at where the woman was pointing. It was a small house, modest in comparison to the houses along the main street that led to Hel’s mansion. Steve thanked the elderly woman who just harrumphed and adjusted her clothes again before taking off back to her friends who had quietly followed them down the alleys. They cackled like old women are wont to do when they are gathered together and clustered themselves up to resume their gossip.

Steve felt his heart leap into his throat, a thousand what-if questions exploding into his mind. What if Peggy had forgotten about him? What if she didn’t recognize him? How would he explain to her that he was alive? How could he leave her again? What if she looked old and sad and wrinkled and was nothing like he remembered? Steve steeled his nerves and approached the door and knocked.

Brown eyes, the same beautiful brown eyes glanced up at him through thick white lashes that slowly began to turn brown. Her well kept hair was tied into a neat white bun, color slowly seeping in from the roots. The gentle smile that had graced her lips when she first opened the door fell into a frown and then awe, the wrinkles disappearing from sight. A 94 year old Peggy Carter had answered the door, but standing before Steven Rogers was a 25 year old Peggy, exactly how he remembered her, down to the color of red on her nails. She stood stock still for a very long while, drinking in the sight of him and the sudden change in her appearance.

“Hi, Peggy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to keep updating regularly. The Next chapter should be full of feels and Steggy and the arrival of a certain God. Then things will probably really pick up.


	3. Enter the Chaotic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki interrupts the feels.

Phil wandered through Hel’s home admiring the details put into the stonework. Everything was beautifully carved with elaborate depictions of what he recognized as Norse Mythology. Hel moved behind him, silent as the grave, and passed him on the stairs he was walking up, following a particular carving depicting Ragnarok.

“Philip J. Coulson, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., why do you wander my halls?”

“Oh, sorry I thought.…I like the craftsmanship here. These carvings are very elaborate and the purple, is it amethyst?”

“What know you of Loki?” Hel blurted, her voice breaking on Loki’s name.

“That he’s insane and not to be trusted,” Phil grunted, turning on the steps and walking back down them.

“He is my father.”

“So there’s some truth to the mythologies.” Phil mumbled to himself, rolling through the stories in his mind about the creation of Loki’s children. “What does that mean for me, exactly?”  
“I do not know.” Hel admitted. She followed Phil down the stairs and into the great room they had been in earlier.

“Look, lady, I hate to be mean about this, but I don’t want to be here. I understand that I can’t go back, but c’mon! Help me out here.”

“If you were asking the right questions, then perhaps I could give you the answers you truly seek,” Hel flopped herself back down on her fainting couch and turned her face away from her house guest indicating that her part in the conversation was over.

“Fat lot of help you are.” Phil thought sourly.

  
*******

  
“You…you were dead.” Peggy finally squeaked out, taking a step away from Steve.

“Peggy…I-Where do I even begin?” Steve sighed and his shoulders slumped and he looked about as Captain America like as a kicked puppy. He recalled their last conversation as the plane was going down, the promises for a dance at the Stork Club, Peggy’s voice as she tried not to cry over the radio, her last words to him lost in the static as the rush of ice cold water flooded the cabin and the metal cracked and bent around him. Steve shivered and brought his eyes back to Peggy’s. “I’m sorry.”

Peggy looked on the verge of tears as she tilted her chin upwards to match his gaze with her own. “Don’t be. You saved the world.”

“But-“

“More than once. The news coverage of the Battle of New York reached London only hours after it happened. I nearly had a heart attack seeing ‘Captain America’ plastered all over the telly.”

“I had your phone number, I could have called you before, could have said so much and made things right.”

“Steve, I was an old woman. Hearing your voice on the phone would have killed me and you know that.” Peggy’s face softened into a smile and she stepped forward, closing the gap between the two of them. Steve gently folded his arms around her, holding her in his arms for the first time in 72 years.

  
*******

  
Loki paced restlessly in the tiny room he was being held in, running every possible scenario through his mind, trying to come up with some way to slither out of the predicament he was in. If the All Father were to get his way, Loki would be trussed up and dangled under the tree for Jörmungandr to eye like a tasty morsel and drool venom all over, Loki stopped to shudder. Not being overly fond of the idea and more than a little too weak to magic himself out of harm’s way, Loki resumed his pacing.

  
*******

  
Peggy led Steve into the interior of the home. There was nothing remarkable about it other than the walls shimmering and glinting in the fading light from outside. It was, in all honesty, the exact house that Steve would have imagined for Peggy to have, right down to the picture of the Queen sitting on the mantle over the fireplace. He smiled at Peggy who had seated herself on the lace covered couch.

“You are very late for our date, Captain Rogers,” Peggy smiled up at him. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry Steve, just ask me for a dance.” Peggy smiled coyly at the captain who obliged, offering his hand out to the young woman.

“Miss Carter, May I have this dance?”

  
*******

  
Loki hauled ass in the exact opposite of Asgard, whatever that meant at the moment. His escape had been one of his less brilliant ones, but Thor always did fall for the simple tricks, making it that much easier to run. He bolted for the rainbow bridge and the chance to absorb some of the energy to escape to another world. He felt the familiar buzz of magic in the back of his skull as he neared the Bifrost and without more than a second thought he ran down it and promptly leapt off, blipping out of sight as the magic he had absorbed through the brief touch carried him to the one thing his mind had thought of, a safe place to hide.

  
*******

  
As they turned slowly on the spot, Steve recounted his days since waking up to Peggy who listened quietly and hmmm’d and haw’d in all the exactly appropriate places. “…And that was when I found out that you had…and I hadn’t even had the chance to call you. I went to your funeral, it was perfect, and it was probably far more elegant than you wanted, but it was nice. I thought that closure was what I needed, but-” Steve was cut very short as Loki blipped into the parlor, bowling him over and effectively destroying the illusion that the city of the dead had so elegantly crafted for the mourning Captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the lovely friends I had Beta this chapter for me, THANK YOU. You delightfully charming ladies, I love every last inch of you.


	4. In which there's some kind of danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More short chapters, but this time there's lots more Loki! And some shambling Corpses, those too.

Steve sputtered and rolled out from under Loki and looked around for Peggy and her charming little parlor and saw nothing but the carved, glossy golden interior of an empty building and Loki, slowly rising to his feet as he brushed off his sleeves as if he hadn’t just crash landed into Steve’s imagined reunion.  Outside the light was fast fading and the mists were creeping into the city.

 

“YOU!” Steve bellowed and tackled Loki back to the ground.  “What did you do? Was this a trick? Who sent you?”

 

Loki rolled with the force of the Captain’s tackle, weakened from his escape from Asgard.  He chuckled at the rage evident in Steve’s voice.

 

“ANSWER ME!”  Steve had Loki pinned to the ground, each gloved red hand tightly gripped around frail leather clad shoulders.

 

“No one sent me.”  Loki wheezed.

  
  
“Then why are you here, right here, of all places?”

 

“I asked to be sent somewhere safe.”

 

“I don’t believe this,” Steve sighed and got off of Loki, helping him to his feet. 

  
“Captain I am shocked.  Here I am, an enemy of yours, and you help me to my feet.  Are you an idiot?”

 

“What?  No. I-I’ve seen a lot of strange things, I just don’t question it anymore.”

 

“So you are an idiot,” Loki smirked. “I always-”

 

“This house is an illusion, isn’t it?”  Steve asked, changing the subject.

 

“No, the house is very real, but it feeds off of the memories of those who are in it.  Everything was just a little too perfect for you, wasn’t it?  It felt, off?  That was the house.  There are few like it in Niflheim, filled with malicious magic intended to be good, to keep souls around.”

 

“I should be getting back to the others,” Steve replied bluntly.  He wasn’t comfortable being near Loki, even if he claimed he was used to weird things.

 

“Others?  The Avengers all have died?  How quaint.”

  
“I’m not dead and neither are they,” Steve snapped.  “I found a friend down here and Hel is housing us.”

 

“Hel?”  Loki perked up at the name and followed Steve who was storming out of the door and back towards the main street.  “Is she well?”

 

“Why, is she your girlfriend?”

 

“Daughter, actually,” Loki fell into step with the Captain, long legs matching his stride easily.  “And the other you spoke of?”

 

“Phil Coulson, you might remember him as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent you stabbed in the back,” Steve quickened his pace, attempting to ditch Loki but appear casual about it.

 

Loki easily kept up and smiled a toothy white grin of evil promises at the soldier.  “Oh yes.  Phil.”

 

The light which had been fading at a steady pace disappeared all together as Steve and Loki were ten or so golden blocks from Hel’s crystal palace.  Garmr howled in the pitch blackness, a blood curdling, low pitched howl that no beast should have been capable of making.  Steve un-slung his shield from his back and picked up the pace, Loki not far behind.

 

“Any idea what just happened?”  Steve barked as he fumbled along in the darkness at a jog.  He kept tripping on uneven cobblestones and the scraping of the gold on his boots made a gut wrenching sound.

 

“Something that we don’t want to be a part of,” Loki mumbled back, two steps behind the soldier and already slowing down, his thin body exhausted beyond reason.  

 

Steve stumbled over a largely uneven area and fell, scraping open his uniform knees.  Loki caught up to and surpassed him, moving along carefully so as not to fall.  Steve pushed himself up, his gloved hand colliding with whatever had tripped him.  At first, the size and shape suggested just a stone sticking out of the ground, but the scratching sound the leather made across the dryness and the squelch of Steve’s thumb going into the eye socket of the rotting skull proved otherwise.  A dry scaly hand grabbed Steve’s wrist and both the corpse and the soldier were brought to a standing position.

 

“I’m going out on a limb here and saying I wasn’t tripping over cobblestones.”  Steve mumbled to himself, violently jerking to the right and breaking the grasp of the hand that had grabbed him.  He slipped on what he could only imagine was another corpse and ran after Loki who was limping away from a shambling figure.  “This was your magic’s idea of a safe place to send you?”  He huffed after bashing his shield into the creature, sending it falling backwards and into the mists.

 

“I **am** unharmed.”  Loki said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“Let’s just get to the palace.”

 

“Agreed.”  Loki limped forward and stumbled.

  
  
Steve sighed and slung Loki’s arm across his own shoulders to which the God vehemently protested with a string of Nordic curses.  “It’s this or I leave you here to die.”  Steve shot back.  Loki silenced, though his fine features fell into a pout.

  
With Steve’s super enhanced abilities, the two of them were able to make it back to the crystal mansion in a few short minutes.  The front door swung open and Phil was gesturing them indoors with one arm, the other held a golden spear that he must have found within Hel’s halls.  Steve practically threw Loki across the threshold before tumbling into the safety of the walls himself.  Phil helped him stand to his feet, casting very curious glances between the Captain and his new found friend.

 

“WHAT THE HELL WERE THOSE?”  Steve barked at Hel as she approached them. 

 

“I told you not to be out past dark,” she replied emptily.

 

“Yes, I’m aware.  I would have been back on time if it hadn’t been for…”Steve gestured at Loki who was making a show of dusting himself off.

 

“Please don’t try to blame your tardiness on me, Captain Rogers,” Loki smirked.  “You were the one who was so wrapped up in his fantasy that he was about to be devoured by death.  Oh, did you not realize that was going to happen?”

 

“What?”

 

“That little illusion I shattered for you, essentially it was a cooking pot for lost souls.  The creatures that led you there were probably lurking around until just the right moment to consume you.  Live flesh, what a treat that would have been.”

  
“You…”  Steve scowled, trying to find the best way to chastise the god, but gave up and turned his attentions to Phil.  “Thanks for the help.”

 

“Don’t mention it,”  Phil smiled at the soldier then pulled him aside and hissed in his ear.  “Why Loki? Of every possible being to find in this god forsaken place, you find him. Why?”

  
  
“His magic brought him to a “safe place”.  I don’t know what that means, so don’t bother asking-”

  
  
“I want you gone by morning,” Hel’s voice carried across the room and drew Steve and Phil's attentions back to her. "All of you."


	5. Fat Lot of Help You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all about asking the right questions.

"Sorry to inform you, Hel, but 'gone by morning' doesn't do us any good if don't know where to go-"  Phil started, eyeing the heavy doors as they shut themselves.

"Or how to get there."

"Yes, thanks Cap, or how to get there. So why don't you calm down and be reasonable for a-"

"We stay here."  Loki commanded, drawing himself up to his full height and glaring at Hel. 

"You will be gone in the morning."  Hel replied, drawing herself up in turn to match Loki's height.

Steve and Phil watched the exchange, Loki and Hel both silently staring the other down.    
  
"So you found an enchanted house?"  Phil asked quietly, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Apparently."  Steve scowled.

"Sorry."

"Not your fault."

"It still sucks though."

Steve shifted his weight and said nothing more, still watching Loki and Hel quietly fight with each other.

"Fine!"  Loki broke away and threw his arms up in exasperation.  "We'll go now, won't that just delight you, my rotten daughter?  Seeing your father trudging off into the mists to die in the company of a hero and a dead man."  
  
"Phillip stays here.  This is his home."  Hel stated.

"Lady, you have a lovely little creep fest going on here, but I think I'd take my chances out in the mists."  Phil snorted. 

"As you wish." Hel turned away from all of them and headed to the stairs.  "Niflheim will not be open to you again, should you leave."  She ascended the steps slowly, fading nearly out of sight and through a solid wall when she reached the top.

"That was dramatic."  Phil said with half a laugh.

"Do you really want to go?"  Steve asked.

"Oh please. Simpering over him isn't going to do you any good, Captain.  Make use of those gorilla arms of yours and load a bag with food."  Loki barked from the corner he'd slipped to.  "And Coulson, since it seems we won't be rid of you, do something equally useful."  
  
"What about you?" Steve barked back.  "Are you even capable of pulling your own weight or are you going to rely on the good nature of the man you killed and your brother's friend?"  
  
"Neither, thank you.   I plan on getting out of here once I'm recovered."

"Of course you are.  How silly of me to think otherwise."  Steve half growled.

"Don't sound so disappointed, Captain."  Loki smirked, moving from the corner to the table of food that Steve was circling.  "What's wrong?  Not a fan of eating?  Your girth would say otherwise."

"I'm just wondering if this is anything like the story of Hades and Persephone..."  Steve mumbled.  Phil joined him at the table.

"No pomegranates."  He smiled. 

"Are you really that simple?"  Loki snorted.

"If you're not going to say anything helpful, don't bother talking, Loki."

"I'd ask the same of you, Captain."

They glared at each other from across the table.  "The food is fine.  Now fill up a damn bag with it." Loki gestured and a trio of satchels appeared on the table.  Shortly after, he stumbled backwards into a carved chair.  Phil and Steve exchanged a curious look, but silently filled the bags with the food that would keep longest.

 

"Where are we supposed to go?" Phil asked finally, after they'd filled the bags and their pockets and Steve had helped strap a sword across Phil's back.

"Earth." Steve replied, testing the weight of a sword in his hand. 

"How exactly do you plan on achieving that?" Loki asked, finally removing himself from the chair he had slumped into after using magic.

"Well I don't know that, now, do I?" Steve replied with a snort.  "I doubt you're going to be much help and Hel's not coming back down here any time soon."

"Right on both accounts." Loki smirked.

"Doesn't Thor get help from someone named Heimdall? Maybe he'd help you?" Phil offered.

"Not Likely."  Loki smirked again.

"What did we say about shutting up if you weren't going to be useful?" Steve snapped at Loki who cast a wicked grin at him.

"Darling, you simply aren't asking the right questions."

"Hel said the same thing."  Phil said quietly.

"Seems like it's an Asgardian thing."  Steve half chuckled.  "So the right questions, hmm?"

"It's as good a place to start as any." Phil offered.

Steve nodded and set the sword he was holding down on the table and headed to the heavy doors. 

"Where do we go from here?"  He asked the doors, pulling them open with a grunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad at Updating, but I'll try and do better. Thanks!!

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into writing Avengers FF. No shipping here, just Steve coming to a few conclusions about himself and about his enemies. Also Phil being a badass. Feedback is welcomed with open arms and ugly sobbing.
> 
> Also for all purists of Norse mythology, the reason I'm using niflheim in place of helheim is because of Gylfaginning by Snorri Sturluson. From what I gleaned, Hel lives in Nifleheim in a majestic city and houses the dead and cares for them there. I'm mixing thing a bit, I know, but I'm just using Wikipedia as a resource.
> 
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hel_(realm)  
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Niflheim
> 
> Playlist for the fic can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2O_KF3vKVnrixC572DSpm9X-3ngfpfrA


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